28. Eveera
Eveera
“Tell me about them.” Damn him for asking. Damn yourself for telling the man you should hate.
I wish so desperately that while I tried to nose around in his mind - before he interrupted me - that I would uncover some betrayal or deceit to our deal. That he was aware of the truth of what happened to them and was baiting me, leading me into a false sense of security.
Last night was so disorienting. The personal intimacy of it, the positions we sat in. He is always finding a way to touch me. He constantly touches me.
And you let him. The voice inside pesters. I’m lingering on the little things like the weight of his head in my lap, the cadence of his voice, the circles he strokes on my skin. Heat crawls up neck, flushing my cheeks…
“OW!” The feeling of a needle pricking my side has me returning to the present. The seamstress Millicent dragged me to - at the most ungodsly hour - waves me off.
“You’ve gone stiff as a board. How am I supposed to work with this fabric on you? Hmm?” Millie giggles at the chastisement and I shoot her a glare.
She’s being fitted for a ridiculous golden headpiece by the seamstress’s apprentice. Metal juts off of her head in an effort to mimic sun rays. “The queen picked it herself!” The younger seamstress squeals while fastening it to Millie’s hair.
Millie sighs, a pleasant smile pasted on her lips. “She always does, Rosette.” Her tone is soft with the young girl. If that’s true, I’ve no doubt the fabric of my dress will either be tampered with or so heinous I won’t dare be seen in it.
“The queen is always so generous with her requests for the celebration. It’s our biggest event of the year!” The girl looks to me her excitement overflowing as she chatters on. The seamstress dressing me nods only in agreement, her old and withered eyes looking up at me. “Except you.” She says flippantly, pursing her lips.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Magdha.” Millicent hisses cutting off whatever the old woman was poised to say next. Instead she pats my hips and stands herself up to let her eyes roam over me. She pushes and spins me around to get a full look. “This will be enough. Rosette will find you accessories and your dresses will be in your rooms by dusk.”
The ladies rush us out of their modiste with a few thanks and kisses to their cheeks from Millicent. I’m mildly curious as to where or what the next godsforsaken task this day require will be.
To my surprise, when we get back to the castle, it’s not another errand she drops me off at but the door to my men’s rooms. “You have two hours before you’re needed back in Rorin’s rooms.” She states, her tone of voice letting me know that this is a command not a suggestion .
I shrug her off turning right around to their door, not bothering to knock. When I walk in I find Axel, Max, and Orem strewn across the furniture sleeping.
I crouch down by Axel’s ear and whisper into it. His eyes snap open at my voice, “Gods above, Evie!” He does a double take of me wiping the sleep from his eyes before reaching for a pillow to chuck Max.
Thwack! “FUCKING HELLS, brother!” Max yells rubbing his head where the pillow made contact.
“You didn’t have to wake them.” I mutter.
Axel side eyes me. “If I have to be woken up by your sunny disposition, so do they. GET UP ASSHOLES!” Orem and Max both grumble at him, throwing obscene hand gestures our way.
“I have two hours. Anyone want to blow off some steam?” The three of them jump up, scrambling to grab their weapons and follow after me. “Aren’t you supposed to be getting all dolled up or something?” Orem asks. Axel passes him up giving him a slap upside the head. “It was just a question!” He argues. “Do you want to ask questions or go stab a few things?” Axel counters. He dips his head down in submission, the four of us walking down to the training area. The room only had a few foot soldiers and guards occupying it, stares drifting to us before quickly averting away when we enter making fast work creating space for us on the floor.
The four of us form a square; Axel facing Max and Orem facing me. The younger Abrams brother gives me a wink before fading into a black cloud and disappearing from our view.
“Oh no fair.” Axel whines, “we’re using Wields?”
CLANG! With an arc of Max’s sword, he brings it down hard on a distracted Axel’s blade. “Don’t act like you don’t have any, Mecham.” The taunt was said in jest but it was too late .
SCRAAAPPPPEEE! He drags his sword’s blade against the edge of Max’s before spinning on his toe and aiming for the knees. A move Max barely blocks. “Come onnnn, Mecham. It was only a joke.”
“Tuah.” Spit lands at Max’s feet. “A shitty one, Abrams.”
The two go round and round, meeting steel every time. Toeing the line of landing a blow. Electricity crackles around the hilt and pommel of Max’s sword as he goads Axel. Meanwhile why they spar, I wait like a sitting duck listening for the whistling sound of Orem’s magic.
My fingers tighten on the hilt of my sword. Swoosh. Swoosh. The weight of it swinging like a pendulum in my palm. “Come out. Come out, little Abrams. You can’t hide in the dark forever. That’s my favorite place to play, dear.” A blur of red crosses my peripheral. I bring my sword up, angling behind me just a little and swing. CLANK! The impact sends pain up my wrists reminding me why I’ve always preferred daggers or stars to swords. They’re light and quick to make their marks in comparison.
He vanishes again and within seconds, I am yanked into Oblivion my hair wrapped tightly around Orem’s hand. His blade positioned at my collarbone. “You… ugh! Fight dirty, little Abrams.” His palms are sweaty causing his hold to give a little.
All around us, darkness clouds. Only the wink of stars to illuminate wherever it is he’s brought us. Orem’s magic while similar to Armond’s Void magic. It’s uses are much more expansive and a lot less precise. Absorbing any who cross their wrath into Oblivion. Whether you go in or out, seen or heard, is at the command of the one Wielding it.
His voice echoes all around us. “I thought you liked the dark, Majesty.” With his grip loosening on my hair and the weight of his sword dragging his hand down I seize my opportunity. My hand lands smack in the center of his face. Causing him to yelp, letting go of me completely. I pull all of my magic forward. My tendrils sweeping out of me, they slither and search for their mark. I plunge into his mind, breaking through every mental wall and barrier.
Images of his parents, of Max, of Millicent - interesting - surface. His fears becoming palpable and malleable.
Just as I bring the first of his fears to light, taunting and twisting it to reality, he lets out a guttural scream. His shadows unravel from the inside out and we both tumble to the ground, swords clattering beside us.
I keep a few tendrils wrapped around him as I pin him to the floor. “Do you yield?” Orem sucks his lip between his teeth as he fights to switch our positions. “Does it..look..like I fucking..yield?” He bites.
I drag my finger down his jaw. “Tsk tsk tsk. Such foul language from such a young, pretty face.” He squirms underneath me. “Call it, Mecham!” I shout over my shoulder.
“She wins, brother.”
Orem’s face screws up in contempt and he shoves me off of him. A finger jabbing into my face. “You cheat.”
I stick my tongue out, “you Wielded first. Sore loser.” He helps me up anyways, flicking my ear before walking away to his brother. The other soldiers in the room stare at us, too stunned to speak at the spars they witnessed. Over their heads and in the shadowed corner stands Ezra, watching and by the looks of it waiting for me. I dust myself off and pass the weapons to Axel.
When I walk over to the corner where Ezra stands, he doesn’t say anything at first. We lean against the wall watching the three others go again quietly for awhile until Ezra turns on his heel, a subtle command in his departure. Follow me.
He holds the door open for me into their apartment and then again into his bedroom. He shucks off his armor next to the bed resting on the edge of it. The gold velvet duvet looks worn, half crumpled across the unmade bed that has no posts to frame it. The room is in complete disarray, something so contradictory to his personality. The simple walnut wardrobe in the corner has clothes pulled out and hanging off the hangers. The narrow desk that’s pushed against the wall under the window has his papers and correspondence all. strewn across it.
I mover quietly over to the desk and sift through the papers,
“Any updates I should be caught up on?” If there is one thing I trust he and Armond to do, it is to correspond with Felix and the general on my behalf. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know what exactly the correspondence is about.
“Uh.” He stands up coming up beside me. “Well, Vada’s still missing. But they’re uh they’re working on cleaning up the cities that were taken over.” His voice is gravelly and tight and his fingers drag on the wood, curling around the papers and wrinkling them in the process.
My hand raises to his shoulder, “Ezra…”
“I don’t get it.” The pain in his voice is nothing compared to the rawness in his eyes as he turns to look at me. “How can you stand to be near him. How can you stand to touch him, to sleep near him, to call him the things you do in front of everyone?”
I stand there searching for the words to say. “Because I have to. To get close to his parents—”
“OH BULLSHIT EVEERA!” He shouts grabbing my shoulders and shaking me. “This isn’t about his parents?! Maybe it was once but not now. No, you’re in this for yourself too.”
My mouth drops, not liking the feeling that takes hold as his words settle in. “I-I’m not! ”
His lips press into a firm line. “You are. Five years, E. You think I don’t see ? That I don’t watch? I’m your head guard. It’s my whole purpose; watching you. And the way you look at each other? It’s not hate.” His laughter was cruel. “But it never was for him. And now….with you…” His face turns in disgust before his eyes drop to my lips. And much to my shock in the next second his lips slam down onto mine. Hard and bruising. Nothing sweet, nothing like his usual behavior. It’s frantic and rushed.
“Ezra.” I say in between kisses. Both my hands coming up to push on his shoulders. “Ezra, no. No.” He doesn’t relent on his pressure at all. My nails are clawing at his tunic, clawing at him, but it only makes him squeeze me tighter his hips pushing me up against something hard.
He breaks away to trail his rough kisses down my neck then back up to my mouth. “Five.” Gasp. “Years.” He pants, his tongue spearing into my mouth is an unwelcome intrusion.
I pull my head back trying to catch my breath, “Ezra, let go of me.” I try again, turning my head so that he can’t kiss me again.
Let go of you, or let go of your heart? The voice in my head taunts. His hair has come undone falling around his face as his forehead meets the crook of my neck. The hard thing he pushed me up against turns out to be his desk, the two of us awkwardly leaning on it.
“I love you…” he says, voice cracking. The edge of brokenness to it twists in my gut. I thought it would be disgust but this feels more like pity. Pity and guilt.
“Let go, Ezra.” It’s all I can muster out and that’s all it takes. To break the spell winding around his grief as he leaps off me like he’s just touched hot coals. Casting his eyes away from me again.
I slip quickly out of his room swiping my lips with the back of my hand. The motion taking with it whatever residue of Ezra’s kiss was left. Armond’s lounging by the hearth and shame heats my cheeks. “I really don’t want to hear it.”
“Are you hurt?” He asks.
“What? No. No..I’m not.”
He nods. “You’re needed to get ready.” “Oh-kay.” I mouth and rush out of the room my heart racing all the way back to The Glass Hall.
When I walk through Rorin’s doors the room is buzzing with commotion. Ladies maids, servants, and footmen are all flurrying around. “There you are!” Millie shouts from the doorway to the bedroom. “I said two hours Eveera! Where were yo—” her eyes drop to my lips that are still burning from Ezra’s kiss.
“I am well aware of the time restraint you put on me.” The dazed look in her eye is shaken off as she drags me to the vanity. Her small hands push me down onto the velvet bench with enough force to knock me off balance. She says something to the ladies maid in the bedroom who leaves and returns with brushes, pins, and a small box. Feeling content with the spread in front of me, Millie lets her get me ready. The ladies maid doesn’t make eye contact. Her hands shaking a little bit as she makes quick work of plaiting and pinning my hair. I watch as the pieces of dark hair are wound and twisted into their spots. She tentatively reaches over my shoulder and slides a small box in front of me. The leather of it is soft under my fingertips and when I lift the lid a slim gold crown comes into view with black diamonds woven around each spire, like vines.
The girl's eyes widen as she takes in the gorgeous piece. Her nimble fingers reaching for it and with a few camouflaged pins the crown is secured in place. Millie peeks into the bedroom with that ridiculous headpiece on top of her head. The gown she has on however is a beautiful pale blue, her sharp collar bone is exposed by the off-the-shoulder sleeves that billow down her arms. The bodice to it is sheer around her midsection and flows out into a long train. “Don’t say it. I know I look great. But you, you look half finished.”
I roll my eyes, “I am half finished.”
“Right, well, if you hadn’t been off doing gods know what for more than the two hours I gave you, we wouldn’t be in such a rush.” She pushes me in front of a long mirror, barking at servants to do this and that.
The dress they have me step into is a deep plum, it’s gossamer material hugging the curves of my body perfectly. They fasten a gold choker around my neck; a snake to match the pins in my hair.
I feel a tap on my calf and find the girl staring up at me, a gold shoe in her hand. I lift my foot enough for her to secure the shoe and lace the ties up. As a finishing touch Millicent hands me my mask for the evening. “You people don’t honestly think this will disguise anyone, do you?”
Her mouth turns down into a frown, “that’s not the point. Now put it on. We’re already late.”